Fragile Wounds
by SapphireMind
Summary: A closer look at the time period of Katniss and Peeta falling in love from the last chapter.
1. Chapter 1

AN: All disclaimers apply - no copyright infringement intended, this is just for fun and I don't own the characters, just my own musings on them. I plan to have a second chapter dealing with the epilogue at some point.

* * *

It's a slow process, healing. Events that occurred over only a short span of time, wounds that were incurred in moments, they can take years to heal, if ever. I hope that they will all heal, that I will be a whole person again, that the nightmares will someday stop.

We work on the book together, images and stories of our loved ones guiding us through the healing process. Talking about each one allows me to remember and try to forgive myself for the part I played in their death, while it allows Peeta to sift through his memories, reinforcing the realities and trying to contain the lies.

One night, he falls asleep on my couch as I'm writing in the last words on the page. When he's sleeping, he regains some of that innocence that was stolen from him by the Capitol. I cover him with a throw blanket, heading up to sleep myself.

When my eyes close, I am assaulted by fire: the smell of burning flesh, the sounds of the screams, one in particular that I seem to be able to hear over the din of the others, the feeling as my own skin roasts away, the taste of death. I scream myself, not just out of physical pain, but of having to hear Prim scream her death throes, over and over again.

Suddenly, I am awake, and I look up to see Peeta standing over me, concern lining his face. He brushes a damp lock of hair from my eyes, a slight hint of a sympathetic smile on his face. He knows what the nightmares are like.

"Thank you," I say, breathing deeply to calm myself.

"You'll be ok now?" he questions me, clearly intending to leave and retreat to his own house.

I hesitate. It's a loaded question in many ways. I look up and meet his eyes, begging with them what I can't bring my mouth to say yet.

He knows me; he can read me better than most people can. He knows what I'm afraid to say, to ask him. "Are you sure?"

I nod meekly and pull down the duvet as the invitation for him to join me. "I know I have no right to ask you this." My voice falters, tears shining in my eyes, knowing that I don't deserve him, but desperately craving the comfort that only he has ever been able to provide.

Peeta carefully lays himself down next to me, not touching me yet, but then his arm snakes around my waist, connecting us physically. His voice is soft, "It used to work to keep the nightmares away. For both of us."

Of course Peeta has nightmares too, I remember. I may not hear him screaming, but I remember him telling me on the train that his nightmares were typically silent, frozen in inaction. I nod, glad we're in a spooning position so I don't have to look at his face yet. "Thank you."

After that night, it never was a question again. Peeta moves his things into my house, without asking, without needing to be asked. Greasy Sae I'm sure thought that more was occurring in the bedroom than was. In truth, it is chaste between us. He holds me while we sleep, and we keep each others' nightmares at bay. There is very little talking even. That needs to be done downstairs with the lights on, not touching. We aren't ready to have serious discussions while touching.

Instead we ignore the reversion to when we used to be a unit, when we were pretending to be in love with each other. I pretended at least. Peeta never did, which is why it is so selfish for me to cling to him. I had moments, flashes, of when it seemed like it was more than just an act, more than just comfort, but Peeta…he loved me. And selfish me, I needed his love, even though I couldn't promise anything in return.

Of course, the nightmares still come sometimes, but now we are there to wake each other up and comfort the other as we readjust to our reality. One night though, Peeta wakes me up from my nightmare with a kiss. I return it without thinking, but then come to my senses and pull back.

Peeta speaks aloud to explain, "You were crying and begging, saying 'come back, please don't leave me here alone.' But you aren't here alone." He holds me tighter, whispering softly, "Neither of us are alone here now."

"But…Peeta, I don't want to hurt you…" I begin. I vaguely remember the dream, the feeling of my soul ripped from my body as all my family left me. Cruel honesty was called for right now. It would prevent greater hurt in the long run. "I just wanted _someone_."

He stiffens just slightly in my arms, "I know, Katniss. But, you need someone, and I need you." I open my mouth to protest but he kisses me again to silence me. "You using me would hurt me less than you going to find someone else to use to feel that connection that you need. Please, let me provide for you."

"You've already done too much for me, Peeta." My fingers trace his scars, all because of me. "It's not fair of me to ask more from you."

"But you aren't asking it. I'm giving it." I feel a drop of liquid fall onto my shoulder from his eyes. "I have given up on trying to not love you, Katniss. The only time I can remember not being in love with you is when I was literally drugged up and insane." He caresses my face so gently. "I can't help it, and I'm done fighting. You don't have to love me. Just…if you don't love anyone else, let me try and fill that place in your heart." His hand moves to my chest, resting on top of my heart as he tilts and rests his forehead on mine, his voice barely audible, "Please."

I shake from the weight of the words he said. I answer his question with a kiss, then soft words, "I can't promise you anything."

"I do need one promise, though." He continues before I can interject, "I need you to promise me that you won't tell me you love me again unless you really mean it. If it means I never hear the words again, that's fine. But I need to know what's real and what's not."

My voice feels thick, "I can promise that." I kiss him and settle back into his arms, comfortable and warm.

After that night, our time together is filled with more touching, which seems to please Greasy Sae inordinately. Somehow, just seeing us kiss still fills people with a sense of hope and joy. It makes me feel dirty to inspire those emotions, when I still feel none of them myself. But of course I don't stop, I can't stop at this point. I depend on Peeta and the feel of his fingers to reassure me and provide the connection to this world so I wouldn't drift off again.

Eventually, the kisses grew deeper, the touches became more insistent and the desire overwhelms my good sense to not escalate things. I think we both cry the first time we had sex again with each other. Peeta, because I can't give him what he needs, I cry for the same reason I think. It isn't romantic, but it isn't going through the motions either. We both need it, the connection, the release; but neither of us can give ourselves to the other fully.

Dr. Aurelius had once told me to "fake it until I make it", to go through the motions until the meaning behind them came back to me. And that's perhaps what I am doing with Peeta. Aurelius didn't get his title from a cereal box, because I find one night as I am resting on the couch with Peeta, Haymitch across from us in a wingback chair, that I do care for him. That I have grown to depend on him emotionally, and that sometimes when we are together, I feel happiness again, and that it is alright.

When I have that realization, I panic. While Peeta works on bread, I sit in the closet for a full day on the phone with Dr. Aurelius, trying to deal with my abandonment issues and my fear of losing that which I love. He doesn't assure me that everything will be ok, but listens to my outpouring of fear of having Peeta leave or taken away once I admit that I care for him.

So one night as we move against each other, I let it slip. "I love you, Peeta." Barely more than a breath, but unable to stay unsaid any longer.

He doesn't reply until later, when I am curled in his arms. He brings my face to meet his, asking me seriously, "You love me. Real or not real?" He knows I promised I wouldn't say it without meaning it, and I haven't said it since that night, not to anyone except the pictures in the book.

"Real," I confess. He holds me tighter and starts to cry. I kiss the tears away. "Please, don't."

"Katniss, my only Katniss," he murmurs as holds me close and continues to weep. "I love you too."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Another little missing scene

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"You don't have to do this," Peeta says gently, his arms going around me.

My face is set in a firm expression of determination. "Yes, I do." I maneuver around his arms to finish pinning my hair back from my face.

Peeta gives an exasperated sigh, "No. I don't want you to do it. I've never even asked you to do it! I know how you feel." We've been having this disagreement for a week now and I was very firmly winning.

I turn to face him, giving him a peck on the lips. "And I know how you feel. You do so much for me. You have done so much for me before. Please, let me do this for you. For us." I take a hand, lacing our fingers together. "I feel like I want to vomit, but it will make me happy to do this for you, so damn it, it's happening. Now go downstairs to our guests before they decide to leave!"

It's been four years since Peeta came back to District 12 to be with me. The town has been rebuilt, stone by stone. We've made new friends as people have moved here, grown closer together as a couple, built our lives, healed.

I've learned that healing is an ongoing process, something that never finishes. And tonight, I want to provide healing to Peeta for once, for all the times he's held me together when I wasn't even sure I wanted to continue existing.

Downstairs, we have guests: Annie and her little boy, Finnick's son, Jessick, Joanna, Heevry, the apprentice that Peeta has taken in the bakery, Greasy Sae and her granddaughter and Haymitch, of course. My mother wouldn't come; it didn't surprise me much. I put the finishing touches on my hair, tucking a primrose into the design, then going downstairs to face the music.

Peeta is just herding everyone into the dining room, smiling nervously at me as he pulls out my chair politely. "You look beautiful," he says as he brushes the lightest of kisses on my cheek, then takes the seat next to me.

Everyone talks and catches up as food is passed around the table, plates full of the meal that we prepared. Peeta does the baking and anything delicate – I take care of the meat and vegetables. It turns out I'm not a terrible cook either, when I try. The food is good, the company is better and plenty of wine is shared around. As plates start to be pushed away and the chatter slows to a dull roar, I realize it is time.

I reach for and grip Peeta's hand tightly under the table, his expression worried, trying to convince me with his eyes to not do this. I ignore the non-verbal plea and stand up, drawing the attention of our guests.

"First, I want to thank everyone for coming tonight. It's so good to see you all." Murmurs of agreement are heard. I clear my throat. "But, I had an ulterior motive for this dinner party."

Immediately, suspicion and even fear come into the eyes of Annie, Haymitch and Joanna, the other survivors of the Capitol's sick Hunger Games. I continue quickly to allay their fears. "A lifetime ago, Peeta and I were thrown together. Due to the machinations of the Capitol, we had to agree to marry." I pause, giving an apologetic look to Peeta. He would have happily married me then, but I was forced into it, and we both knew it. "Anyway…That proposal was a sham and we never married, obviously."

The room was silent, looking at me, looking at Peeta, disbelief and shock coming to their faces as they realized where I was going with my speech. "But, it is a new world now. We are different people than we were back then, in so many ways. And…" my voice faltered, looking for the words. I closed my eyes and felt Peeta squeeze my hand in support. He knew this was something I needed to get through. "And I would very much like to marry Peeta Mellark." A surprised and pleased ripple of sound goes through our guests. "And…We're kind of planning to do it right now." I blush heavily as I sit back down.

Peeta gathers me into his arms with a strong kiss. "I'll get the bread," he says when we break, our guests still chattering with each other at the surprise of the night. I stand and motion for them to follow me to the living room, where the fire is still going strong. No one tries to talk to me. Perhaps they see how on edge I am about all this. Most know that I've never been much inclined towards marriage, and they don't want to spook me and ruin the moment.

Peeta brings out a special loaf he made, that I had requested ostensibly for dessert. It's a sweet bread, studded with candied fruits and edible flowers. He joins me by the fireplace and we kneel opposite each other, already becoming very warm by the fire. He breaks the bread in silence, you could hear a pin drop in the room, and hands me half.

"The fire has changed this from a pile of dough, to soft bread, now to hardened toast, as your love has changed me from girl, to woman, to wife." I hold the bread close to the coals at the front of the fireplace. "I love you and I give you my bread as I give myself to you, always and forever." I hand my hunk of bread to Peeta.

Peeta repeats the same vows, the vows that my parents said, that their parents said before them, taking away all the fear and nervousness I had about this night. He hands me his bread when he is done, we both take a bite from the toasted area, then kiss.

A cheer erupts from our audience, and not a few tears are being shed. I am surprised to find my own cheeks are damp, and I laugh in relief. It is done, the world did not end and I have been able to give Peeta something he has wanted for so long. In the process, perhaps giving myself something I didn't even know I wanted.

We stand and receive the congratulations of our friends. I explain I didn't tell anyone, because I wanted it to be something just for us, not for all of Panem. I know they will find out eventually, but I wanted tonight to just be our family. Peeta brings out a lavish cake that he had made for the occasion, despite his protests, and more wine is brought out to toast. We eat, we dance, we sing, we enjoy our extended family. I had never imagined getting married before, but if I had, I'm fairly certain that it would have been just like this.


End file.
